


colors fill in the spaces where there were none

by prettyboyrollins



Series: suddenly i see the lights guiding me [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Canon Disabled Character, Character Study, Destroy Ending, Disabled Character, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pining, Post-Canon Fix-It, Pre-Relationship, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboyrollins/pseuds/prettyboyrollins
Summary: People had always said "absence makes the heart grow fonder;" Joker wasn't planning on testing that out.But like every other "routine" trip on the Normandy, things didn't go exactly as planned.[One last flight on the Normandy SR-2, punctuated with conversations with friends and private moments with Shepard.]
Relationships: Jeff "Joker" Moreau & Garrus Vakarian, Jeff "Joker" Moreau & Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Jeff "Joker" Moreau/Female Shepard, Karin Chakwas & Female Shepard, Karin Chakwas & Jeff "Joker" Moreau
Series: suddenly i see the lights guiding me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897243
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	colors fill in the spaces where there were none

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in beta hell for so long and i'm so glad it's at a point where i can feel good posting it.
> 
> endless love and thanks to taran and [awst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdultWithSpareTime) for the beta reads and critiques, and to the r/fanfiction discord for the help with the little things along the way. i would be lost without that community tbh.
> 
> title for this (and the series) taken from [i can't stop thinking about you by the shadowboxers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pBmK4GAiBc)
> 
> if you haven't read part one, turn back now, because this is a near direct continuation of that story.

It had been a year and a half since the Reaper War had ended, which meant it had been a year since Joker Moreau reunited with his Commander. In that year, he hadn’t flown at all, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he was being stifled by being on the ground. Being planetside, surrounded by friends and Shepard, was nice, almost. He’d adjusted.

His first chance to fly since bringing the Normandy and her crew back to Earth came a year and two days after Shepard had woken up - Miranda had felt satisfied with Shepard’s progress in physical therapy, and she’d signed off on the paperwork to allow her to transfer to the Alliance port in Vancouver. Joker, of course, would be doing the relocation flight.

Hackett had assured Shepard the change would do her good. Things had been rebuilt there much faster than they had in London, and the Alliance had made sure to get Shepard a nice apartment without any stairs. They rounded up the crew of the Normandy - they’d all lingered in London to keep Shepard company while she started her recovery, putting their post-war plans off for a while - and then Joker was tasked with taking her home. 

Returning to the ship was exciting - the crew itself was buzzing as they settled back in, stowing their gear in familiar lockers despite the short journey and talking about what was waiting for them in Vancouver. Joker tossed his own bag of uniforms away, trying to take up as little space as possible in the crowded crew quarters.

“I hope I get assigned to something with an impact, y’know? A rebuilding effort. Recovery in a colony. Just,” Vega said, sighing as he tossed his bag of clothes on his bunk. “I wanna help people.”

Kaidan smiled and clapped his shoulder a few times. “I don’t know how much pull I got, but I’ll do my best to help with that. At least Shepard and I can stress that you do better with the human element of things added in.”

That energy carried up into the CIC, where Joker exited the elevator and found Traynor and Tali talking by the galaxy map, discussing future plans with excited smiles (or, y’know, that was the impression Joker got from her voice). “If the Alliance doesn’t need you,” Tali told her, “the Council would be foolish to overlook your skills. The galaxy always needs skilled engineers.”

Traynor looked away and brushed her hair behind her ear as he passed, the faintest blush on her cheeks. “Thank you, Tali. That’s quite a compliment coming from you.”

The best part, though, was waiting for him on the bridge; Joker’s fingers twitched at his side as he made his way up the CIC slowly, looking at the shock of red hair in one of the chairs.

For the first time in two full years, Commander Jane Shepard was aboard the Normandy, waiting on the bridge for their departure like she had so many times before. She’d chosen to sit in the navigator’s seat in the back left corner - whether it was out of respect for EDI’s spot or because that was where she’d always stood back then, he couldn’t be sure, but it felt right. Her crutches laid on the floor beside her, a reminder of just how much things had changed, but the Normandy still felt better in ways he couldn’t quite describe - it was like the ship itself was happy to have her commander back, no matter what condition she’d come home in.

He reveled in that, thrilled by how the energy seemed to amplify as he told the crew to prepare for departure before he took them up for one final flight as a team. Once they were airborne and Joker felt his own autopilot kick on, he decided to break the silence.

“So. It’s no mid-battle rescue, but I think it’s one of my better departures. What do you think?”

“Eh.” He could imagine her casual shrug in his head, even without turning around, and he just rolled his eyes.

“Just _eh?_ Not even _alright?”_

Her laugh was his only answer, and they lapsed back into silence for a few moments.

“It feels good to be back on board,” Shepard said softly from her seat. “Hope you don’t mind - I just… didn’t wanna be anywhere else for this.” Her voice was gentle in a way he hadn’t gotten used to yet, but he found himself liking it a little more every time she spoke. “My first flight on my ship with my pilot since…” She trailed off. “Well. You know. You were there.”

Joker smiled and turned around to look at her, his hands flying over the console as he guided them home. “It’s good to have you back, Commander.”  
  
Her smile lit up the bridge. She wasn’t even trying - Joker had seen her try before, and it was different. This was natural, and perhaps that was what made it so blinding. It wasn’t the Commander, or Jane trying to seduce a target to save some lives. It was just Shepard, his friend, the coolest woman he’d ever met.  
  
Joker had to turn back to what he was doing so he wouldn’t get distracted. It would be easy to do, he knew, but even an easy flight like this needed him to pay a little attention to the sky in front of him. He pretended he wasn’t blushing for his own sanity. “This ship felt real empty without you.”

Docking in Vancouver was easy; Vega and Kaidan helped her move all of her big stuff into her new place: the armor, the model ship collection, the fish. Following behind, Joker carried her hamster cage - the largest thing he could help with while still being useful.

Vega whistled when he walked in. “Nice digs, Lola. When’re you gonna christen this place with a party?” He looked around the kitchen while Kaidan put her armor on one of the couches and went to look out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

“I haven’t even officially moved in yet, James,” she chided, adjusting her weight on her crutches. “Lemme work on being able to walk for fifteen minutes before we start planning ragers.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, shaking his head and carrying the fish - in a new tank Traynor helped acquire - over to her room.

Kaidan moved away from the window. “It’s crazy that the last time we were here, this place was being torn apart. It looks so… _calm_ now.”

Joker gave him a look. “Aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine? Wow. _Thanks,_ Major. Really bringing up the mood.”

Shepard laughed. “He’s got a point, Kaidan. But…” Her voice got a little quieter as she checked a datapad left on the kitchen counter. “I know what you mean. It feels weird to be back.”

Kaidan and Vega headed out once her things were where she wanted them - they had weapons lockers to clear out on the Normandy. “I’ll bring yours by tomorrow,” Vega had promised, and Shepard gave him a shaky hug before he left. 

Joker, though, had no such obligations, so he lingered, her hamster squeaking up at him now and again.

He watched Commander Shepard melt away into just Shepard once again, the stiffness in her posture disappearing slowly, the focus in her eyes changing into a softer kind of alertness. It was an honor in his mind that she let him see this side of her - he’d seen her at her best, as had everyone on the Normandy, but he’d also seen her at her worst, and that went both ways, though he was certain his worst was far more terrible to deal with than hers. It meant, though, that she didn’t feel the need to keep a wall up around him, and he tried his hardest not to put one up around her.

She made her way over to the couch slowly before sitting down and letting her crutches clatter to the floor. “It gets easier, right?”

“You got a lotta things you could be referring to, Shep. I’m gonna need you to be more specific.” He made his way over to sit next to her, carefully nudging her crutches aside with his foot.

Shepard sighed and let her head fall back against the couch. “Everything.” She took a few deep breaths and adjusted the way she was sitting; it took time, and she winced a bit, but she managed to tuck her feet underneath her. “The physical therapy. I know I’ll never be one hundred percent again. I understand that. But it gets easier, right?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, eventually. Not all at once or anything, though. It takes time, and sometimes it gets harder before it gets easier. On a scale of one to fighting a Reaper on foot, I’d rank it… a solid geth trooper.”

She smacked him gently in the chest, and he laughed. “I shouldn’t be whining. I just didn’t make plans for _after_ the war.”

“I know.”

She looked at him - her expression was a mix of confusion, concern, and fear. “What do you mean, you know?”

“I know. I’ve _known.”_ He looked over at the window, watching a few skycars fly by. “After the party on the Citadel, when we were leaving to take the fight to the Illusive Man, you stopped in the docking bay. You looked— really, really… sad. But kind of resigned. Like you knew you were never gonna see the Citadel again or something. And when we talked, you… no matter what I said, you didn’t give me an inch.” Joker sighed, and looked over at Shepard; her face was inscrutable, but he kept going. “It hit me that you really didn’t expect to survive. And yeah, the odds were stacked against us like they always were, but we all had faith in you. _I_ expected you to make it out, but… I knew _you_ didn’t. That’s why I actually saluted you as you left. Just in case I didn’t have a chance to tell you after the fight that being on the Normandy with you was one hell of an honor.”

Shepard pulled the cuffs of her sweatshirt - N7, funnily enough, with that familiar red stripe from her armor running down the sleeve - over her hands and wiped at her face, and that’s when it hit him that she was _crying._

He didn’t like seeing her cry, mostly because she _never_ did, but it was probably healthy for her to do it once in a while. He awkwardly placed a hand on her shoulder and waited for her to speak when she was ready.

It took some time, but he couldn’t blame her: she had a hell of a lot to deal with. Virmire, Aratoht, Tuchanka, Rannoch, the Crucible. In all his years of serving with her, he’d seen her go through a lot of pain without a single tear. This was an uncomfortable necessity.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling once as she tried to pull herself together. “I think I needed that.”

“I’d say. How long has it been since you cried, anyway?”

Shepard took a deep breath and let it out shakily; the tears had stopped but her eyes were _red._ “I don’t— I don’t know for sure, but the last time I can _remember_ was Mindoir.”

Holy _shit. “Seriously,_ Shepard? You made it through the _Blitz_ without crying afterwards? How the hell?”

“I was just too exhausted to cry, I think,” she admitted, smiling a little as she shook her head. “Still. I didn’t mean to… cry all over you. I guess I just never realized how well you could read me. Kinda threw me for a loop.”

His thumb brushed over her shoulder a few times while he processed that. “Shepard, I’ve been serving under you for five years at this point, give or take the time you were dead and the court-martial and the time when you were Anderson’s XO.”

Shepard laughed a bit and leaned a little closer. He beamed, but continued talking.

“I know I’m not a people person, but you actually _talked_ to me instead of seeing me as the guy who flew your ship, y’know? Anderson was always good to me, yeah, but you were the first person on any vessel I’d flown that I’d willingly call my friend. Of _course_ I learned how to read you. Plus, I had to make sure you were okay, ‘cause _you_ sure as hell weren’t gonna tell anyone if you weren’t.”

“I can’t believe I never noticed.”

Joker laughed and pulled his hand back. “You had some other stuff on your plate, I don’t blame you.”

Shepard reached down and picked up her crutches to lean them against the couch. Joker watched her, noticing each wince when a sore muscle was tweaked. “So,” she said, picking at a thread on the cuff of her sleeve. “They’re docking the Normandy for a while, I’m assuming. What does that mean for you?”

He bit his lip and thought of how to breach the subject, fiddling with his hat as he did.

“Give me the news, whatever it is. I can take it.”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not the only one who learned someone’s tells. The hat.” Shepard pointed up to where his hand was still gripping the brim. “You mess with it when you’re nervous. Out with it, Flight Lieutenant.”

He held a hand over his heart and gave her his best offended look. “Pulling rank in casual conversation? I thought we were friends.”

Her unamused glare would’ve been more effective if he couldn’t tell she was fighting a smile.

“Okay, okay. They’re not tossing the Normandy in dry dock just yet.” Joker reached up and fiddled with the brim of his hat again. “Garrus, Tali, and Liara haven’t been home since before the war. With the amount of debris still floating around Thessia and the delicacy of the docking situation on Rannoch, the Alliance wants their best ship and their best pilot bringing them home.” He braced himself for whatever reaction Shepard might have. 

She huffed. Even with how long he’d known her, he wasn’t able to see any emotion flicker across her face. For the first time in a long time, she was a blank slate. “So they’re sending you.” She nodded a few times before she spoke again. “Alright.”

“That’s it?” His brow furrowed. “It’s that simple?”

“It makes sense. You’re the only man I’d trust with the Normandy, and the Normandy is the only ship I’d trust to get them all home safe.” She waved her right hand - the left one was still hard for her - and shrugged. “Ergo, you are the only man I’d trust to get them home safe.”

“I’m glad you think I’m trustworthy, ‘cause it’s gonna be a _long_ trip.”

Shepard grimaced. “Are the relays still a mess?”

“Some of ‘em, yeah.” He stood up and stretched, grunting as he did - the damp air in Vancouver made him stiff, but that was a problem for future Jeff to figure out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tugged his shirt back down where it had risen with his arms. “I know that the Perseus Veil is gonna be a pain to get to - a couple of the relays in Council space have been repaired, but once again, the Terminus Systems are a no man’s land.”

“It’s gonna take _months_ to get out there and back without a relay jump.”

He turned back to look at her, and laughed at her frown. “Yeah, well, I’ll drop Tali off first so I have company on the way back. I got us back from Zorya with no relays, so.” He smirked and raised his eyebrows, as if she’d challenge his assertion. “Takes more than that to stop me and the Normandy.”

“Yeah, yeah. We know, you’re amazing.” The way Shepard waved him off was teasing, and it was written in the way she smiled as she did. “When do you leave, anyway? I assume they’re all gonna stop by before you go.”

“Tomorrow night. 2100.”

“That soon, huh?”

“Yeah.” He noticed the way her shoulders fell just slightly. It was one of those few tells he’d learned over the years - she was stressed and exhausted. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just…” She ran her right hand through her hair, brushing it back from her face - she still wore it loose, just like she always had, but it was longer than she'd ever allowed it to be in the Alliance. It made her look a lot more relaxed, but also a lot younger, and that was a lot for Joker to reconcile - she was barely over 30 if you didn’t count the two years she was dead, and she’d already lived through hell twice.

He didn’t realize she’d been talking to him until he noticed the motion in his vision, and he pulled himself out of his thought spiral to be a little more mentally present. Shepard blinked up at him and waved her hand in front of his eyes - or she tried to, at least, from where she was sitting. “Hello? Earth to Moreau.”

Joker shook his head and blushed. “Sorry. Zoned out. What’d you say?”

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, fondness leaking out beneath the annoyance. “I _said_ be careful. I wasn’t going to say it was an order, but now I’m concerned, so be careful, Flight Lieutenant. That’s an order. I want my ship and my pilot back in one piece.”

He laughed, tucking the way she’d said that in the back of his mind for later as he snapped into a salute with a wink. “Aye aye, ma’am.”

***

Having the Normandy run with a skeleton crew always felt incredibly weird and sinister to Joker - he figured it was just some lingering trauma from the hours after the Collectors boarded and took everyone on his watch. Still, even knowing that, he had to fight back a shiver as he boarded the mostly-empty ship.

He tucked a sweatshirt underneath the control panel on the bridge before he headed down through the CIC; most of his things were still stowed away on the crew deck, since he’d known he’d be back for this. He just had to make sure Vega hadn’t messed with them while he wasn’t around.

As he got off the elevator on deck two, he ran into Traynor, who nearly dropped the bundle of clothes she was holding. “Oh! Joker. I didn’t realize it’d gotten so late. I’d better hurry.”

Joker smiled. “Yeah, I’d say so, unless you wanna spend another five or so months flying around doing nothing with me.”

“There are certainly worse fates, but I’ve got a job lined up that I’m rather interested in keeping.” She shifted her things to one side so she could tuck her hair behind her ear. “The Alliance wants my assistance helping them design and build the next deep scout frigate.”

Joker beamed - that was the perfect position for someone like Traynor, and he was glad the Alliance was finally utilizing the talent they had properly. “Holy shit. Congratulations, Traynor, that’s a big step up! There’s no one that knows this ship better than you do.”

His enthusiasm seemed to surprise her, but she smiled back just as brightly. “I have a feeling Shepard was directly involved in my recruitment to the project, but…” She blushed and looked down, and Joker had a flashback to the moment she’d found out EDI could process her flirting - she’d come a hell of a long way since the retrofit project. “Thank you, Joker. I think _you_ definitely know more about the Normandy than I do, though.”

He immediately shook his head. “Nope. I know how to handle her, sure. In a fight or a tricky escape vector, I’m your guy. But you know all of the intricate, technical stuff. The stuff that makes her tick, y’know? And I understand it in theory, but you can go out there and put it into action.” Joker tried to catch her eye when she looked back up, just so she could _see_ how much he meant what he was saying. “Seriously. Go kick some ass and build me the next ship of my dreams.”

Samantha laughed, and she did her best to salute him as she stepped on the elevator with her things. “Aye aye, Joker.”

He kept smiling as he headed to his bunk, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the crew was his family now, too. Leave it to the Commander to make everyone feel important, which made everyone care about each other.

She’d turned _Joker_ into a _people person._ Shepard was more powerful than she realized.

***

With a crew of only eight (pilot, relief pilot, navigator, engineer Adams, Tali, Garrus, Liara, and Dr. Michel), the Normandy felt massive and empty. It was quiet at all hours, even when they were gathered together in the mess for dinner. 

Joker was still rattled by the swap of onboard doctors - apparently the Alliance had reassigned Dr. Chakwas to something important, but they’d recruited Michel on Shepard’s recommendation and sent her to a lab somewhere in the Hades Nexus to work on some project during the Crucible construction.

Which was good, because she’d been planning to stay on the Citadel otherwise, and then she would have died.

“Garrus and Shepard have saved my life many times over - I will never be able to repay them,” she told the crew fondly one night, smiling at Garrus who simply waved her off.

“You don’t have to,” Garrus assured her. “That’s just kind of what we do.”

Joker had started by bringing Liara to Thessia - “they need as many people to help rebuild as they can get. I should be there.” The relays were functional, but not quite finished, and Joker clenched his jaw so tight as he made the approach that it wouldn’t stop popping, even after they’d ended up in the Parnitha system without incident.

Docking was a delicate process - so much was still under construction, and there were plenty of rubble piles around to make the approach a bit tricky - but he managed it with ease.

“It was a wonderful final trip, Joker. Thank you.”

He wouldn’t have done anything beyond turn his chair and say a quick goodbye if it had been a few years ago, but the Reaper War and everything that came after had changed them. Liara, who had always been kind and a rock solid presence whenever she was aboard, had become a friend, and saying goodbye was hard.

Liara looked surprised when he got out of his chair and held out his hand. “Don’t act like you’re not gonna be back on board at some point,” he said with a smile. “You really can’t think Shepard’s gonna stop flying forever. She’ll want you back.”

She ignored his hand and pulled him into a gentle hug. “I know. But still - this was my last time for a while. Let me treat it the way it deserves.”

Joker wrapped his arms around her; their hug only lasted a moment, but that was enough for both of them to appreciate. “Thanks for everything, Liara. We’ll see you around?”

“I’ll keep in touch. Thanks again.” She waved and headed out the airlock, and Joker got back into the pilot’s seat with a smile; he watched her walk toward Armali with purpose and confidence, and once she was far enough away, he maneuvered his way back out into space.

“Plot us a course for Rannoch if you can. Relays are ideal but if it’s faster to make a straight shot, we might as well.”

“Aye aye,” Collins said from behind him, a few beeps coming from the navigator’s chair as they worked on a flight path.

He left the Normandy in orbit as he reached out to Tali on comms. “Hey, Tali’Zorah vas Normandy? We’re heading out to Rannoch next if you wanna reach out to the Fleet or the Admirals or anything. Let ‘em know you want a big parade when you get back.”

Tali giggled. “Thank you, Joker. I’ll make sure they give me a hero’s welcome.”

“Damn right. I’d say you’ve earned it.”

Joker took some time to check the extranet while he waited for the flight path to upload; comm buoys all over the galaxy had come back online, thanks to the hard work of the Migrant Fleet, and it felt nice to be able to see what was happening back home as he faced down what would probably be a six month long round trip if he was lucky. He knew it’d be rough, being away from Shepard, Vega, and Kaidan, but he also knew (and expected) Hackett to reach out to send him to do _a quick favor, while you’re in the area_ before he headed back to Earth.

He’d take the annoying with the good, and just hope that Hackett needed soldiers who could do heavy lifting and not a pilot who could only confidently fire a pistol without the recoil shattering his clavicle.

“Flight path’s uploaded, we’re good to go.”

“Roger.”

Joker flew the Normandy out of Thessia’s orbit with the kind of delicate touch that made him the best at his job. She dipped and swerved around the few last pieces of debris and then headed for the clear path through uncharted space. With a few flicks of his wrists, the Normandy jumped to FTL, and he smiled.

“Collins,” he said, leaning out of his seat to look at the navigator’s chair. They turned around, confused, and he smiled. “We’re good for a little while. I’ve got this - go take a break.”

“You sure?” they asked, standing up and brushing their hair out of their face.

“We got a few hours before we need to drop out of FTL to adjust our course. Enjoy ‘em.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Joker didn’t exactly like how proper they were being, but they’d been tossed on the trip last minute, and according to Adams, they were a little starstruck. The Normandy SR-2 was a glamorous assignment, apparently. He figured it would pass soon enough - his shine generally wore off once people spent enough time with him.

With the bridge empty except for him, he pressed the button to close the doors behind his chair; glancing at the clock he’d set to display Pacific Time back on Earth, he brought up Shepard’s contact on his omni-tool and patched her into the cockpit comms with a wave of his hand.

“Bored already?” Shepard asked the moment she’d connected. “It’s only been, what, a day?”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged like Shepard could see him; the smile, at least, was audible in his voice. “I got some time to kill. Dropped Liara off and now we’re heading for Rannoch.”

Shepard snorted, and he could picture the look on her face. “So you’re taking the long ride back with _Garrus?_ Garrus _Vakarian.”_

“He grew on me. I figured if you liked him so much, he had to have _some_ redeeming qualities.”

“Ha ha, Joker, very funny.” She sounded amused, which was good - he’d figured, back when he met her, that eventually she’d get fed up with his sarcasm and disregard for the rules. He felt safe in assuming that that wouldn’t be an issue now. “I’m guessing you just called to talk? Or are you about to tell me you’re going rogue and stealing my ship and my best friends?”

“He wouldn’t have the balls,” someone said on the other end, and Shepard snorted.

Joker’s face felt warm, but he covered it with a sigh. “Hi, Jack.”

“Hey. Thought you’d be done being the Alliance’s taxi driver.”

“Hopefully this is gonna be my last time doin’ it.”

“Good on you,” Jack said, and he could hear her smile. “You’d do better as a pirate anyway. Guarantee that pays way more than whatever you’re getting from the brass.”

“Come on, Jack, don’t convince my pilot to leave me stuck here for good.” Shepard failed to hide the laugh in her voice, and he heard a soft _thwap_ as she did something - probably threw a pillow at her.

Joker grinned. “C’mon, Commander, have a little faith in me - I wouldn’t leave you behind, are you kidding? You’d be the one person I’d ask to join our crew before we went off to terrorize the galaxy for profit.”

He wished he could’ve seen her face then; as soon as he’d finished talking, he realized how… _much_ it had sounded like. It was joking, sure, but with the way things had shifted since London, it felt big. He’d told her he was with her no matter what came next, and he assumed she knew that that was still true - but this was practically him saying he’d run away with her, if she’d have him.

He _would,_ and he kind of had before, but that wasn’t the point.

She was quiet for a little before she spoke again, and he couldn’t be sure, but she sounded so uncertain and shaky when she did - she almost seemed _sad._ “I’m not gonna be much use as a pirate.”

“Of course you are. You talked several people you were fighting into ending shit themselves and saving you the effort. That’s an invaluable skill. Plus, the name recognition? Commander Shepard, first human Spectre, savior of the galaxy, gone rogue? That’s intimidating as hell.” Joker leaned back in his chair and put his feet up. “I mean, if _I_ was facing you down in a life or death situation? I’d give you whatever you wanted if it meant I’d survive.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll consider it.” This time, there was a gentleness and brightness in Shepard’s voice, and it made the lingering weirdness about admitting maybe too much go away. “Listen. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m gonna go have dinner with Jack like we planned on before you interrupted.”

The fond needling was right back in comfortable territory. “Oh, by all means, Shep, don’t let me keep you from your very important dinner party while I fly some VIPs across uncharted space with a skeleton crew.”

“Good _bye,_ Joker.”

“Talk to you later, Commander.”

***

Joker wasn’t much of a cook, and without a mess sergeant assigned to the Normandy, he was having to deal with the consequences of never learning. He’d always thought being a pilot would keep him out of the kitchen on a ship.

He was wrong.

His plate of boring tank-grown meat and vegetables wasn’t _bad_ \- he was an adult man, he knew enough to get by - but he’d had it every night for the past two weeks as they kept going towards the Perseus Veil. FTL space flight had no business feeling _this_ slow.

Garrus and Tali were in a similar boat - dextro rations in the Alliance were iffy at best, so both of them had tried any way to make them more enjoyable. Judging by the look on Garrus’ face every night, they hadn't figured it out yet.

Dinner with them was nicer than he’d expected; Joker never liked eating in front of people, really, because it felt vulnerable in a way he couldn’t deflect with humor. There was something he should probably unpack there, his aversion to being seen as anything so real and human, but he shoved it deeper into a box in the corner of his mind and ignored it.

But Garrus and Tali were easy to get along with. They were old friends at this point, with no shortage of stories to tell. “EDI convincing the Normandy retrofit team that she’d only respond to me was probably the greatest moment of my career,” he joked, pushing at the limp green beans on his plate with his fork. “Watching those Marines realize they needed the annoying prisoner to get anything to work? _Priceless.”_

“Good timing, too - I don’t want to think about where we’d be if you hadn’t been on that ship to get Shepard off Earth.” Garrus’ mandibles flared a bit. “We’d probably be part of a brand new Reaper.”

“I was gonna say _dead,_ but you somehow made it worse.”

Tali took a breath to speak, but her omni-tool lit up before she could. Glancing down, she sighed. “I have to take this,” she said, voice exhausted already. “I’ll be down in Engineering if you need me.” She placed her hand on Garrus’ carapace for just a moment before she walked away, disappearing into the elevator with an audible “hello, Raan.”

Garrus looked almost lovesick as he watched her leave.

“Y’know, of all the people I expected to hook up on this ship? You were not one of them,” Joker admitted. “I thought it would’ve been a big deal for turians.”

Shrugging, Garrus sat back and took his glass of bright pink whatever-it-was in his hand. “Shepard thought the same thing, too, but we’re not as uptight about it as you humans. And with Tali, well…” He trailed off for a second with a faint smile. “It’s different, is all I’ll say.”

Joker nodded. “I get that. Exceptions to the rules and stuff. This ship’s definitely one of those.”

“You’ve got that right. And Shepard did her damndest to keep it professional - even if… several of us didn’t exactly succeed there.”

Eyes going wide, Joker looked at Garrus. “Wait, it wasn’t just Kaidan and Liara?”

Garrus’ expression was just as surprised. “You— you didn’t know? We were sure you were one of us, up until EDI.”

“Wait, _us?”_

Rubbing his forehead, he put his drink down and sighed, mandibles twitching. “Several of us aboard the SR-2 had… _thoughts_ about the Commander,” he admitted quietly. “Nothing ever came of them, of course, and we only found out much later - after the Collector base, while she was on Aratoht. I won’t expose anyone else, but I was one of them, and we all seemed to agree that you _also…_ what’s the expression, carried a flame?”

Joker’s voice was small and a little pitchy. _Fuck._ “Carried a torch.”

“Yes. That. We thought you _also_ carried a torch for Shepard.” Garrus’ eyes had always been piercing - it didn’t help that he was also the best sniper Joker had ever met, and that visor probably told him more info than he needed to know - but this was focused entirely on him. It was intense.

“She was my best friend, Garrus. Had been for years. She died trying to save my life.” He waved one of his hands around, trying to brush it off. “It makes for some weird, complicated feelings.”

Garrus hummed, and Joker didn’t need to hear his subvocals to know he didn’t buy it. “Right. That’s all it was. Even on the SR-1.”

He grumbled and adjusted his hat with his left hand. “It was just our dynamic, okay? It didn’t mean anything. It’s the same thing she had with Vega.”

“The difference is that Vega gave up the act _real_ fast when she flirted back. He was always a little starstruck by her.” Garrus crossed his arms - he was _enjoying_ this, the bastard. “You never were. Hell, you _argued_ with her. And _you_ were the one that was told to make sure she was doing alright.”

Huffing, Joker put his fork down and glared at Garrus from under the brim of his hat. “One, how the _hell_ do you know all this? Two, why the hell does _any of that_ matter?”

“I’m just saying,” he said, holding out one of his hands to motion as he spoke. “Of all the people on this ship, you were the one who didn’t see her as Commander first. You saw her as Shepard, probably because you knew her before…” He waved his hand in circles above his head. “Well, everything.”

“I didn’t know her before the Blitz, Vakarian.”

“So you expect me to believe that _you,_ Joker Moreau, would’ve been in awe of a little Star of Terra?” 

Okay, fair point. He respected what she’d done and thanked her for her service the first time they’d met, but he wasn’t all that impressed by soldiers back then. They always brushed him off or treated him like he was second-class - whether it was because he was a pilot or because of the Vroliks, he’d never stuck around to find out.

He must’ve made a face while thinking, because Garrus somehow got more smug across from him.

“The rest of us? We met Shepard as the first human Spectre. I know _I_ was eager to work with her because she was saying what C-Sec wouldn’t. I was young and dumb and when she found me on Omega, maybe I started thinking of her as a miracle.” Garrus shrugged a bit. “You never had a moment like that, did you? She was always just _her_ \- impressive, sure, but she still came aboard and talked to you and made sure you knew you were an important part of the team.”

Joker swore under his breath and adjusted his hat again. “Still not seeing what Anderson asking me to check on her has to do with this.”

“Simple: people who were close to _her_ and not to _you_ knew that if anyone on the ship would have a good read on her, it would be _you._ Not Kaidan or Liara. Anderson knew she would talk to you over them, and that means she talked to him about you, implied that… things weren’t as _entirely_ professional as we’d all been led to believe - though with _you,_ expecting professionalism is a hopeless endeavor to begin with.”

Garrus stood up and put his dishes in the sink while Joker reeled; he had no idea that he’d been obvious enough for the Cerberus crew to wonder about, and he certainly hadn’t expected _Garrus_ to have noticed so much. 

“Wait,” Joker called as Garrus headed back to the main battery, and Garrus turned back to him with a tilt of his head. “You never said how you know all this.”

“I worked for C-Sec, observing people and learning tells, for _years._ Oh,” he said with a smirk, “and I’m also close, personal friends with the Shadow Broker.”

Joker let his head fall to the table with a groan.

It was gonna be a _long_ trip to Palaven.

***

Dropping Tali off on Rannoch was bittersweet - the first homes on the planet had been constructed fully, and Tali made soft sounds of joy and awe where she stood behind him on the bridge for the final approach. 

“It’s… beautiful.”

“Welcome home, Tali.”

The dock took a bit of maneuvering to get into securely, which he did with deft hands, impressive enough that even Admiral Raan connected to their comms to say “excellent work, Captain Moreau.” 

“Thanks. Tali’ll be out soon.”

He could hear the soft conversation behind him, somewhere in the CIC, and he didn’t turn around; Garrus and Tali had been getting clingier as they got closer to Rannoch, and he knew this goodbye had to be rough on them both.

For a moment, his mind flashed back to his final salute to Shepard before she headed down to London, and he shoved that back and away as he waited for them to be done.

He heard footsteps approaching and turned his chair around; Garrus was holding Tali’s hand while she sniffled quietly. “Thank you for getting me here, Joker. And for saving us on the geth ship. And—”

Joker stood up and cut her off with a gentle, somewhat awkward hug. “Don’t mention it. It’s what I do.”

Her laugh sounded more like a hiccup as they parted, and she kept her hand on his arm for another moment or two. “Have a safe journey to Palaven. The comm buoys are all working, so there’s no excuse for you and Shepard not to call.”

“Okay, Mom,” he teased, grinning as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You ready to go claim some property, Tali’Zorah vas Normandy?”

She looked out the airlock for a few quiet moments, then nodded. “I think so.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Garrus said, soft and warm as he brought their hands up to his chest. “I promise.”

“I know.” Tali leaned close to him one last time; Joker could hear a few sniffles before she stepped back and dropped his hand. “Keelah se’lai.”

With that, she headed out, and they both watched her pull Admiral Raan into a hug as she stepped onto the dirt. The poignancy of the moment wasn’t lost on Joker, and he settled down in his chair with a lightness drowning out most of the heaviness in his chest: he’d brought Tali home - not to a ship, but to the planet she’d dreamed of since she was a child. It felt good, even though he’d miss her a hell of a lot more than he’d planned on.

Gunny would’ve loved her, he realized absently, and that thought ended up in yet another box in his mind to be unpacked at a much, much later date. Never, maybe.

“I’m gonna be in the main battery if you need me,” Garrus said softly as they left atmo, hand on the back of Joker’s chair. “I’ve got to get in touch with the Primarch. Let him know we’re coming and get an idea of the situation on the ground.”

“Yeah, good idea. We’ll start heading there as soon as we have a course.”

Garrus patted the back of Joker’s chair twice and headed off, and even the knowledge that Tali was home and happy couldn’t lift the melancholy mood he left in his wake.

***

They were still two weeks out from hitting the closest functional mass relay, which would get them into the Trebia system in an hour, and the mood onboard the Normandy had leveled out. Garrus was still a little more quiet than they were all used to, though he had spent a bit more time in the med bay with Dr. Michel; catching up with old friends was a healthy distraction, Joker figured. Dr. Michel was nice and he liked her and all, but he couldn’t help but miss Dr. Chakwas.

The space ahead of the Normandy was clear, and he’d given Collins another break as he kept the ship on course. Joker didn’t want to outright _say_ that he wanted alone time on the bridge, but he missed having it sometimes; he adjusted the trajectory by a few meters and checked his omni-tool as he sat back and relaxed.

Chakwas was good - they’d been sending emails back and forth about life. Apparently Chakwas’ assignment was something she was enjoying, though she did miss him and the Normandy. He shot off another quick message about being bored and missing a planet for the first time in his life before he got a call, and he closed the bridge doors and patched it to the comm system there.

“Hey, Joker.” Shepard’s voice was warm and sweet like honey, and he felt himself smile immediately. “How’re things on my ship?”

“Things are _great_ here on _our_ ship, Commander. We’re heading for the Aethon relay. We’re still a ways out, but once we hit it, I’ll probably be back on Earth before midnight.”

“It’ll be good to have you back. Going five months without seeing you and having Vega come by every day is giving me flashbacks to my court-martial.” 

Joker did his best to not sink into the warmth that blossomed in his chest; things were changing, sure, and he wasn’t trying to stop it anymore, but he also didn’t need to encourage it. “Feeling’s mutual, Shepard. I don’t like working with a skeleton crew as it is, but without you and the rest of your collection of misfit badasses? This place is too big.”

“Yeah, well. Come back, pick me up, and we’ll go grab Grunt from Tuchanka. He can raise enough hell for the both of us.”

His laugh was dangerously fond. “Sounds like a good plan.” That fondness carried into the quiet moment that followed; he knew he missed her, and that wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling - he’d missed her after the SR-1 was destroyed. He’d missed her after she turned herself in after she destroyed the Alpha Relay. This was different, though. This was missing her with the knowledge they’d be together soon. Somehow, that felt bigger than it ever had before.

They were comfortably silent for a while, until Shepard spoke up. “Hey,” she said softly. “If the ship feels too big, go to my quarters.”

“What?”

“Listen. It’s small and secluded and there’s a big window in there so you can still see the stars. It’s the one place on the Normandy that feels even slightly private.”

Joker was sure he was blushing a bit, and he reached up to mess with his hat as he tried to find a response. “Shep, that feels like I’d be intruding on your space.” 

“You know I don’t give a fuck about that. You’re _you._ I trust you. Try it out tonight and let me know if it works.” He heard her shift a bit and sigh. “The bed’s uncomfortable, just so you know. It’s kind of hard, so, uh, heads up. Don’t break anything.”

Laughing, Joker nodded even though she couldn’t see. “Thanks for the warning. So - just to be clear - you’re giving _me,_ Jeffrey Michael Moreau, permission to sleep in _your_ cabin in _your_ bed while I finish this trip?”

“Your middle name is Michael?”

His brow furrowed, and he gave the confused look to the stars outside since she couldn’t see it herself. “Yeah, you knew that. It was in my file, remember?”

Shepard sighed. “Joker, I _never_ read your file. I told you that on the SR-1. It felt like an invasion of privacy. Everything I know about you, _you_ told me.”

 _Oh._ He’d figured that had only been in that moment - if he were her, he would’ve read his file right after that conversation to try and pick apart why he had all those giant chips on his shoulder. Then again, Shepard was the best of them and always had been. “Well, shit. Okay then. Yeah, it’s Michael. And I got permission? I’m understanding this right?”

“You are. Enjoy it, Flight Lieutenant. Get some rest and fly safe, okay?”

Joker smiled and let himself lean into the warmth in her voice for just a second. “Aye aye, Commander. Talk to you later.”

***

Shepard’s cabin had been a mystery to him since the SR-2 was given to them by Cerberus. Miranda left it off his part of the tour, and while he was a little pissed - he was Shepard’s _friend,_ thank you very much - it was the kind of stupid, petty anger that faded away in a few hours. He knew she had a fish tank, and that for some reason, she spent the first two months of their trip sleeping in the port cargo hold.

Joker could understand why as he stepped in for the first time.

In the lower part of the cabin, above where the bed was, was the massive window she’d mentioned to him - clearly she’d grown to love it, if the way she spoke about it was any indication, but her first two months aboard the SR-2 had been her first two months being alive after being spaced.

He’d watched her float away from the escape pods after saving his life back when the Collectors attacked - he’d just _watched,_ and he’d still had nightmares for years about Shepard careening off into space, alone to suffocate amongst the stars she loved so much. It had haunted him for a long, long time.

And Cerberus, who had collected her lifeless corpse from space and spent millions of credits to restore it and fix all of the damage that came with asphyxiation in a vacuum, had put a _giant window_ above where her bed would be, so she would see the stars in the one place on the ship meant to be her safe, quiet space.

That was some _really_ stupid design by the Illusive Man and his team.

He ignored the tiny office area and the bathroom beside it and made his way down the few stairs carefully. Tossing his hat onto the little coffee table by the couches, he took it all in - this place was _nice._ It made sense, now, why after every mission she’d hide away in her cabin for twenty minutes before making her rounds. It really was the one place on the ship that felt secluded and calm and disconnected from, well, _everything._

He sat down on the bed gingerly, and grimaced a little bit; it was an improvement over the crew bunks on deck three, sure, but not by much. Joker had always figured the Commander had had something ridiculously plush and comfy, considering she was saving the galaxy and always came back aboard with bruises. The Alliance should’ve provided something outrageous to keep her feeling her best, for morale if nothing else. The woman they were sending out to end century-long feuds and cure the goddamn genophage deserved a _little_ luxury.

Despite his strong opinions on the bed, he laid down with a sigh and tried to get comfortable. When he retired, he decided, he’d write Hackett a note about that bed and how terrible it was. It wouldn’t do Shepard any good, but it’d feel nice to get in one final needle about how the Alliance fucked up.

He added his bitterness over their treatment of her death into the box he’d now labeled “shit for therapy.”

He shifted a bit and fluffed the pillows up to get enough support, and then he melted into the mattress as much as he could while he looked at the stars above him. 

The only indication they were really moving was the gentle rippling of the blue low-mass bubble surrounding the Normandy over the glass; it gave him that same feeling of peace he got on the bridge, but slightly better because it felt like he was genuinely alone. Shepard had spent a lot of time on the bridge with him between missions, and he loved it, but if he was in her position, he would _never_ leave this room.

That thought kept bouncing around his head; after he took off his uniform and crawled under the covers, he brought up his omni-tool and typed out a quick email to Shepard. He figured he could be a little annoying right now - he still had a couple weeks to go before he got back, which gave her plenty of time to get over it.

_shep:_

_the window’s why you slept in the cargo bay until we grabbed grunt, huh? whoever approved that design choice at cerberus was an idiot._

_i’m glad you don’t mind the stars anymore. and that you obviously grew to like it. but still. what the fuck._

_you_ are _good now, right? you seem it. i like to think we’re not worried about space anymore._

_even though i think we both had heart attacks with that geth dreadnought situation in the perseus veil. thank god for mag boots, right?_

_thanks for letting me use your cabin by the way. it’s cozy._

_i don’t understand why you spent so much of your time with_ us _and not hiding up here, but hey. whatever worked for you._

_i can’t speak for everyone, but for what it’s worth, i liked seeing you down on the bridge._

_\- j._

***

Joker woke to a stiff back and the unpleasant flashing orange light of his omni-tool. 

Groaning, he rolled over in Shepard’s bed and tried to gently stretch the stiffness out. He heard a few of his joints crack and pop as he extended his limbs, and when he returned to a relaxed position, he felt a little better. 

Even though the bed wasn’t much of a step up, he woke up feeling less terrible than he did in the crew bunks downstairs, and that was enough to make his decision for him: he’d be crashing in Shepard’s cabin until they got back to Earth, where there were comfy beds and a doctor who would drink with him after his appointments.

He let his omni-tool blink for a bit as he woke up fully. Under normal circumstances, Joker required a half an hour of silence and solitude and a cup of the sludgy black coffee in the mess to be a functional person. Being somewhere so quiet and far-removed from the rest of the crew, though, helped expedite the process, and within ten minutes he was sitting up and checking the message he’d received while he slept.

_Joker:_

_You noticed I slept in the cargo bay?_

_I mean, you’re right on all accounts. I just didn’t think anyone realized._

_I got used to it by_ forcing _myself to get used to it. Spent a lot of time in the observation deck with Kasumi at the start. Eventually the nightmares stopped being about getting spaced and started being about everything else I was dealing with._

_Still, though, if I never have to do a 0G walk again, I think I’ll eventually die a happy woman. I think you of all people will understand the gravity (ha!) of the situation when I say I’m content keeping my feet on the ground for the rest of my life._

_For the record, I didn’t hide away in my cabin because I liked my crew as people, and isolation didn’t do me any good. It’s nice to know that all that time I spent talking to you and EDI wasn’t a pain in the ass. I enjoyed it. Kept me sane._

_Hope you got some good rest. Send word when you hit the relay home._

_\- S._

_PS: Calling a planet “home” feels weird for us, doesn’t it? I don’t like it. That pirate plan gets more tempting every day._

Even getting dressed, Joker could feel the good mood coursing through him, giving him an energy that he hadn’t had on this entire trip yet. It earned him some looks as he got his coffee and headed up to the bridge; Garrus and Adams watched him as he passed with an undeniable lightness about him.

“I don’t trust that,” Garrus said softly.

“Neither do I. What do you think happened?”

“What _could_ have happened? There’s barely anyone on board at this point.”

“I don’t want to know. I’m not going to think about it. I’m going to ignore it and hope it doesn’t happen again before we get back to Earth.”

“Good luck with that.”

***

Being an hour out from the Aethon relay had Joker jittery. It was technically the middle of the ship’s artificial night cycle, but he and the relief pilot had swapped their schedules with a bit of clever finagling to make sure neither would end up overworked and tired at the helm. 

Making relay jumps was easy enough in theory - approach, engage, go - but Joker had studied the science in great detail before he was even in flight school. The approach vectors were small and had to be hit _just_ right within the _tiniest_ margin of error, or there was a very real possibility the eezo core within the relay would tear your ship apart. That wasn’t even accounting for accurately calculating the ship’s weight and factoring that in. It got to be second nature, and plenty of ships had VIs to do the majority of the work for you, but he always worried about it.

And now he had to worry about repaired relays; if one little thing was wrong, it could throw off everything.

Joker drummed his hands on the arms of his chair as he carefully watched the ship’s navigation systems, occasionally course-correcting just slightly to keep her inside that approach corridor’s sweet spot. He could do this, he knew it, but it didn’t make him any less hypervigilant.

Footsteps approached behind him and he reached up to adjust his hat before dropping his hands to the controls and tweaking things just a bit.

“Any word on the state of the relay?” 

Joker looked back at Garrus quickly and shook his head. “Nope,” he said, turning his focus back to the sea of black in front of him. “I mean, the Hierarchy on Palaven said it was fixed. I believe that. It’s just not exactly a known science, y’know?”

Garrus’ hum was laced with subvocals Joker couldn’t understand, but he was sure he got the gist of it. “There’s a _lot_ of unknown quantities in this galaxy now. The krogan, the relays, what the Council will do about the Citadel…”

“They can’t rebuild, right? At least not fast? I know I’m a human and we’re just arrogant, dumb babies to every other species, but didn’t I read somewhere even the asari considered the Citadel a marvel of prothean engineering?”

“I think Shepard did a lot to advance humankind in the galaxy’s eyes,” Garrus said wryly, leaning against the door to the airlock. “And yes, it was a marvel of engineering that no race truly understood - any repairs that have to be done will be done with the help of the keepers, though. It’ll take a while, but not decades, I don’t think.”

“The Destiny Ascension made it out pretty unscathed, right?” With a quick flick of his wrist, Joker straightened the Normandy out just a fraction. _Perfect._

“Yeah, it did. That’s what I was thinking, too. It’s inconvenient, but it’s the best neutral ground they have. Something tells me moving the council to a homeworld wouldn’t go over so well.”

He groaned. “Ugh, I don’t wanna think about diplomacy yet. I’ve had enough of it. Let ‘em argue while I’m in a completely different system.”

The low rumble of Garrus’ laugh had become a common thing on the ship, but it still made Joker proud. “I’ve got some bad news for you there - if you want to stay a system away from Council diplomacy, I think you’re gonna have to leave Shepard behind. There’s no way the Council proceeds without her on anything.”

Joker’s stomach dropped. “You don’t think they’d make her the human Councilor, do you?” He’d never considered it before this moment, but it made sense, and that thought was a little terrifying. Shepard had been under enough stress to last a few lifetimes, and being on the Council would only add to that - she deserved a break and time to heal.

“I don’t see how they don’t at least offer her the position.” Shrugging, Garrus shifted where he stood, looking out the windows instead of at Joker. “I don’t think she’d accept it, if that makes it better. But at this point, the offer is inevitable. I don’t know who the other viable options would be - and you’ve gotta admit, Councilor Shepard is a nice step up.”

“They know that if they make her a Councilor, the krogan are getting colony worlds and a seat next to her, right? She might as well be the krogan councilor herself. The salarians aren’t gonna be okay with that.”

“Good point. Councilors Shepard and Wrex would be poetic justice, though. After being stonewalled at every turn while we were hunting for Saren…”

The thought of Wrex and Shepard on the Council together made Joker laugh out loud, practically cackling as he imagined the new form of Urdnot diplomacy in the galaxy’s central governing body. Headbutts for all who deserved them, threatening flashes of shotguns and biotics for those who needed something a little less aggressive and immediate. “Okay, you’re right. And imagine the asari’s reaction the first time Shepard headbutts somebody for being out of line.”

Garrus chuckled to himself as Joker swerved wide gently, banking and rocking back into their approach corridor in a straighter line; he could see the relay ahead of them now, and the nerves came back with a vengeance. Apparently it was obvious to the people around him, and the bridge went quiet as he focused.

The final ten minutes of their approach was textbook: he made minor adjustments to account for the miniscule amount of drift, but otherwise it felt like any other routine flight he’d done over the past five years. The real moment of truth came as he turned into the edge of the mass effect field sub-FTL and transmitted the ship’s weight.

He felt the almost imperceptible hum of the ship’s hull as the eezo core reacted to their presence, and he kept his hands on the controls, prepared to fix any issues that may arise. Ten seconds passed, then twenty, as they drifted forward, waiting, and then there it was: the familiar tugging feeling on the ship and in his chest, and he flicked a few switches to get the drive core offline fully. 

The Normandy vibrated more violently than it had in a long time, but Joker did his best to keep her steady; when he looked up from the control panel as they dropped back down to normal speeds and he started the drive core back up, he couldn’t help but beam.

The Trebia system laid out before them, Menae visible above Palaven in the distance. The space was clear - no debris, no dead Reapers. It was the most normal things had looked so far.

Garrus let out a breath beside him. “I don’t know what I expected to see. I knew we’d been rebuilding and repairing, but… this looks almost… peaceful.”

Joker pushed the ship forward and opened the comm lines as he did; he was too focused on the flight to look at Garrus, but he was smiling. “War’s over, Garrus. I think this is what we can all get used to for now.”

“I’m so used to expecting the worst - that’s going to be a hard adjustment for me.”

Joker couldn’t blame him, really, but he didn’t say anything as they soared towards Menae. “This is the SSV Normandy, requesting permission to dock at Cipritine for a drop-off.”

The voice that answered him was female; Joker was surprised but did his best to keep his face neutral. He didn’t want Garrus giving him shit for living a sheltered life and never meeting a turian woman, and he _knew_ he would. “SSV Normandy, we read you. Docking Bay 17 is clear. You are cleared for approach.”

Garrus moved closer to the windows as Joker took them in - a quick glance up revealed something akin to childlike wonder on his face, in spite of all the angles and scars. Palaven really had rebuilt quickly - the glowing scar on the planet’s surface had seared itself into Joker’s memory from when he dropped the team above Menae all those years ago. Looking at it now, you wouldn’t be able to tell.

The turian homeworld was uniquely beautiful, and Joker was honored to see it.

Docking Bay 17 was designed for turian ships, so there was barely any finesse needed to fit in, and the clamps locked into place with a satisfying hiss. “Alright, Vakarian, this is your stop. You got everything?”

Garrus nodded; Joker could see the stock of his Widow peeking over his carapace. “One thing, though, before I go.”

Joker paused and waited for him to continue.

Whatever it was, he was clearly struggling to find the words for, and his mandibles twitched as he thought. “If I can offer you some advice?” Garrus paused and crossed his arms. “Waiting _too long_ to take the shot always means you miss it.”

Joker stared at him blankly.

Huffing, Garrus tried again. “If you see an opportunity for something good, but you’re waiting for a better chance, odds are, one won’t come along. Take it while you can. You’ll kick yourself over it later if you don’t, when you’re out of heat sinks and cornered.”

“Thanks?”

Garrus rolled his eyes. “Just remember that. You’ll figure it out eventually.” 

It sounded and felt like a teasing barb - their goodbye wouldn’t be emotional, because it wasn’t their style, so this would work. This, Joker could do. “Hey. Try and make up some better jokes about me. I’m sure your soldiers could use some new material.”

Garrus’ laugh was warm in a way Joker had only really heard around Shepard. “Will do. Fly safe, Joker.”

Joker had thought Garrus stepping off the ship would feel more momentous, since this was the last time for a long time; instead, once the airlock was sealed, the docking clamps disengaged without much fanfare.

“SSV Normandy, you are cleared for departure.”

“Thank you. Joker out.”

Collins was tapping away at their navigation computer as Joker looked over the ship’s systems one last time. “Flight Lieutenant, do you need a path back to Sol? I can get one up right away, sir.”

“No worries, Collins. I could do this in my sleep.” He guided the Normandy out of the dock and into the departure path, kicking up her speed in increments. _Come on, girl, let’s get home._ “Take a break. You killed it, Collins. Not many navigators would handle this job as well as you have without freaking out.”

He could practically hear how flustered they were before they even spoke. “Aye aye, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The formalities still made his skin crawl, but he’d learned to deal.

He closed the bridge door after Collins left, and as he readied to leave atmo, he pinged Shepard; she answered right away. He wouldn’t allow himself to think that maybe it was because she was waiting to hear from him.

Well, he wouldn't let himself think it was _entirely_ because of that. A little hope never hurt anyone, after all.

“Hey, Joker. How goes the trip to Palaven?”

“Oh, it _went_ well.”

He could hear Shepard’s breath hitch, and his heart raced a little at the thought. “Went?”

“Garrus is home. Cipritine looks good. And I’m heading to the relay now. Like I said, should be planetside before -- hell, at this point? Before twenty-hundred hours your time.”

There was a weighty pause between them; Joker could feel the anticipation thrumming through his muscles, and he could only assume Shepard was feeling something similar.

If the warm, rich, almost possibly _flirty_ tone of Shep’s voice was any indication, he was right. “Roger that, Flight Lieutenant. See you tonight.”

***

After approximately six months away from Earth, Joker landed his ship in Vancouver with very little fanfare around 1845 hours local time; the skeleton crew were all busy gathering their things as he pulled into the dock, and as soon as the Normandy was secure, he headed to the lower decks to do the same. Adams patted him on the shoulder cordially as he left the crew quarters; Collins dropped a few datapads as they hastily saluted him on their way out. Somehow, these goodbyes felt a lot more final than the ones he’d done over the whole damn trip.

He headed back up to the bridge with his bag of regulation shirts and pants in hand, and then he bent down to grab the sweatshirt he’d stowed away under the control panels. It took a few moments of fumbling around to grab onto a piece of the fabric; when he pulled it out, it came with a metal clatter.

The plaque for the memorial wall Liara had given him two years ago came with it. 

He’d forgotten about it, for the most part - he’d tossed it aside and ignored it, and then they got word she was alive, so it ceased to matter. Joker picked it up with a smile; they’d docked in a repair bay, which meant there was bound to be a bin for scrap to be recycled. Putting it there would be endlessly satisfying.

With all his stuff gathered, he reached up and adjusted his hat as he looked around the bridge one last time. There had been a lot of good memories aboard this ship - they outweighed the bad, without question, and as happy as Joker was to be done with flying a warship for now, he’d miss it here.

“Thanks for everything, old girl,” he said softly, placing a hand on the bulkhead with an embarrassing amount of tenderness. His thumb brushed over the metal once, just enough to convey how much he loved the ship he called home. “I’ll miss you.”

 _That,_ he decided, was the hardest goodbye he’d had to say yet.

He headed ashore slowly, taking a roundabout way towards the exit so he could trash Shepard’s name plaque for the memorial wall. The satisfying _clunk_ it made when it hit the bottom of the bin made him smile; he was caught up in thoughts of how good it’d be to see her again when someone’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Good to see you again, Joker. How’d she hold up?”

Cortez was smiling in a way he hadn’t much since before he’d gotten roped into being the Normandy’s shuttle pilot - the war, funnily enough, had done him good. Vega had said it had something to do with closure. Whatever it was, it was nice to see him happy.

“She did great, as always. What else did you expect from the best ship in the Navy and the best pilot in the galaxy?”

Laughing, Cortez clapped him on the shoulder. “Humble as ever, I see. Come on, I’ve been ordered to take you somewhere.”

Joker followed, but his mind immediately thought of a dozen different reasons the Alliance would want him as soon as he was back on Earth - ten of them had to do with that court-martial he’d joked about. Two of them were for awards for his exemplary service.

His money was on the court-martial; Cortez was only sent to lessen the blow.

“Is that the only reason you’re here? To wrangle me for Hackett or whoever?”

Hackett’s name earned him a confused look from Cortez, but he didn’t address that at all. “Nah. I’m just here as a favor to a friend. I’ve been reassigned to work on the retrofits again, so I’ve got access to the bay. ”

“She’s getting more?”

“Joker, we never _finished_ the first round.”

He thought back to the giant hole in the wall of Shepard’s cabin and the tarps that were still draped over panels in various locations in the CIC. “Right, good point.”

Cortez laughed a little and led him down another hallway. “Anyway, after Zorya, the Alliance wanted her to get a full rework, but they didn’t have the capacity to in London. They do here. It’ll be good to be back on board, helping prep her for whatever comes next.”

“Any idea what that’s gonna be?”

“None yet,” he admitted, “but it’ll probably be something similar to what you just did.”

Joker groaned. “The relays being destroyed is going to ruin flying for me.”

“Well, shit. I never thought I’d see the day.”

The hallway they were in sloped gently downwards, and Joker paused for a moment to adjust his bag over his shoulder. Cortez looked back and held out his hand. “Lemme carry that,” he said gently - not an order, but an offer. “You just spent six months flying. Your back’s probably stiff as hell from that chair.”

Normally, Joker would complain, but Cortez was right - and it helped that there was none of that gross, cloying pity in his eyes. It made it a little easier to hand over his bag and keep moving. “Thanks, man. Where are we going, anyway?”

“We got a shuttle waiting - I’m takin’ you and a few others to an undisclosed location I’m not at liberty to share.” The shit-eating grin on Cortez’ face was irritating - he was being intentionally vague, no doubt, and Joker _hated_ it. 

“What’s with all the cryptic bullshit, man?”

“Someone wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

That was all he got out of Cortez for the rest of their walk; Joker stopped by the front office to make sure his arrival and request for two months of shore leave had been documented and approved. 

“Everything’s taken care of,” the woman in dress blues told him with a cordial smile. “You’ve been granted extended shore leave, though. At the request of the Admirals and Dr. Chakwas.”

“Extended?” He stood up a bit, trying to see her screen. “How long?”

She leaned back a bit, and Joker realized what exactly he was doing. Right. He wasn’t the highest-ranking crew member on a vessel full of old friends anymore. He relaxed into a normal position, and her smile returned. “Eight months,” she told him. “Enjoy your shore leave, Flight Lieutenant.”

Eight _months?_ At the request of the _Admirals?_ Sure, Joker had joked about being invaluable and underappreciated, but this seemed so out-of-the-blue he could only feel dazed as he left the office, adjusting his hat.

Cortez had waited outside the office doors for him, and he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk. He _knew._ “Good news?”

“Guess my talents are finally being recognized. Better late than never.” Joker tried to play it off as no big deal, shrugging. “Eight months off, thanks to Chakwas and the Admirals.”

“Congratulations. You definitely deserve it.”

Joker was first to leave the building, and he held the door open for Cortez behind him. The breeze was cool as it came in off the ocean, cutting through the bit of humidity in the air. Seagulls circled overhead, screeching to each other, and as he looked towards the Pacific, he could see the clouds rolling in.

It wasn’t home, and it probably never would be, but moments like this made it almost tempting to try and make it one.

“C’mon, shuttle’s this way.” His peaceful admiration of Vancouver and the Alliance’s new port was cut short by Cortez nudging him along. “We should go before the sun sets.”

Joker scoffed. “What, you don’t like driving in the dark?”

“Not if I can help it. Come on.”

He hung back for just a moment, enough so that Cortez overtook him to lead the way. They headed around to the side of the administrative building, and there was a singular Kodiak shuttle in Alliance colors parked there. “That’s our ride. Had to buff out some dings from our landing on Zorya, but she still flies like she’s new.”

“Wait, that’s our old shuttle?”

Cortez’ smile could’ve lit up the city. “Yup. It’s the only one I’ll trust with important cargo.”

For a split second, Joker thought Cortez was hitting on him - which was flattering, but completely misguided - but then the shuttle door opened and Vega stepped out, holding out a hand. “Hey, Joker!” he shouted, but he turned back to the shuttle before he could respond.

Her first step was slow and careful, and she leaned on Vega for support, but as soon as her left foot was out of the shuttle and on the ground, Shepard stood tall and smiled, brushing her bright red hair out of her face. “Hi, Joker.”

Yeah. _That_ was some precious cargo, for sure.

He breathed out a “hey, Commander” as he took a few steps forward to hug her; he didn’t make it two feet before she held up her hand and he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Lemme do this.”

Joker watched as Shepard took a few steps forward without Vega’s assistance - instead, she had a black cane at her side, helping her stay balanced as she moved. She looked stiff, and her progress was slow, but in a few moments she was in front of him, beaming. “There we go. Continue.”

Snapping into a teasing salute, he winked. “Lookin’ good, Shep. Glad to see you moving.” It was sincere and genuine despite the front he’d put up, and he could tell she picked up on that by the way her smile twitched.

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re an idiot.” And with that, she pulled him in for a hug.

His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her just the slightest bit closer. Somehow, she seemed shorter than she had been during the war - maybe it was just the lack of bulky armor playing tricks with his mind, or maybe he’d stood taller around her out of instinct and hard-won respect. Shepard’s face was tucked against his shoulder, and Joker fought back the urge to rest his cheek against her hair. This was enough of a step into the unknown for both of them.

For as much as he reveled in it, the hug was over quickly, and Shepard stepped back to get a good look at him. It was intensely scrutinizing, and he messed with his hat as he waited for her to say something, _anything,_ to break the silence. 

“Good. You followed orders.”

Joker’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“I gave you orders before you left,” Shepard said casually, turning around to make her way back to the shuttle. Cortez fell into step behind her, off to her right, and Joker did the same on her left. “I told you I wanted my pilot and ship back in one piece.”

The look on Vega’s face confirmed that Joker’s cheeks heating up was visible; he ducked his head down to hide his blush from Shepard. “Yeah, well. I may hate the brass, but I respect you, Commander. Your orders have always been worth following.”

Shepard looked back at him with a soft smile - it wasn’t the kind she pulled out when they were joking at all. It was gentle and a little more private, almost, despite the fact that James Vega was glancing between them with a look on his face that only meant trouble.

_Third chance, Moreau. Being earnest is okay. She’s worth it._

Vega elbowed him once they had gotten settled in the shuttle, and Joker kicked at his shin. “Don’t make me turn this thing around, Flight Lieutenant,” Cortez tossed over his shoulder, and Vega laughed like a fool. 

“It wasn’t—”

Cortez cut his protests off immediately. “Come _on,_ Joker.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

If his gaze didn’t wander towards her in every situation, he would’ve missed the look in her eyes as she watched him and Vega bicker.

He couldn’t put a name to it, whatever it was, but it felt good.

***

Cortez brought them all to Shepard’s apartment, where Kaidan was apparently putting the finishing touches on dinner. “We figured any excuse to have a party right now would be a good one.”

“Shit, I’m certainly not complaining. It’ll be nice to eat real food for once.” 

Once they’d made it inside (and Kaidan had poked his head out from the kitchen with a hearty “welcome home, man!”), the vaguely formal attitudes they’d all kept at the port fell away; Vega gave Joker a huge but gentle hug and knocked his hat off, much to Joker’s dismay.

“It’s good to have you back, man,” Vega said, smiling at him even as he did nothing to apologize for the hat thing.

Joker couldn’t even grumble like he wanted to; he just grinned and nodded. “It’s good to _be_ back,” he admitted, nodding his thanks as Cortez picked up his hat and handed it back to him. “You all know I _love_ the Normandy—”

Kaidan’s shocked laugh from the kitchen derailed Joker’s train of thought. “No shit, it was a little unhealthy sometimes, man,” he teased; he only shrugged apologetically when Joker turned to glare at him. There was no real heat in the look, and it wasn’t like he could say he was _wrong,_ either, so he let it drop.

“Anyway, you _know_ I love that ship, but without a full crew? She kind of sucks.” He finished his thought with a shrug, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

This crew, though, knew him a lot better than that, and Shepard especially saw through his shit. Her smile made that much abundantly clear.

Cortez was smiling in that wry way he had as he walked over to settle on the couch by Shepard. “I can’t believe we turned Joker into a people person. Only took a couple years and a crash landing.”

Shepard laughed and leaned forward, reaching out and wriggling her fingers as she tried to get her drink from the coffee table. Cortez nudged it forward just enough for her to get a finger over the rim, and she nodded her thanks. “You all achieved something I was never capable of. Beating the Reapers was easy compared to getting Joker to _like_ the people on his ship. Cheers.” Shepard raised her glass - something fancy but nonalcoholic that Vega had made her when they arrived - and smiled. 

Joker watched her take a drink - she was wearing lipstick today, and he hadn’t noticed, and the red was almost the same color as the darker parts of her hair. It wasn’t until Vega gently nudged his foot that he realized he’d been staring, and he made his way over to the armchair on Shepard’s left side, blushing furiously. He pulled his hat down a little further over his eyes and sighed. “You guys suck. I take it back. Put me back on a ship alone and let me go.”

“No chance in hell of that, Joker,” Kaidan said. “You got eight months of shore leave to get through first.”

Phrasing it like that did kind of throw it into perspective - being grounded for over three months tended to make him antsy and irritable. Maybe that’s why it’d been extended - Admiral Hackett wanted to punish him. “Hold on - I know you’re a Spectre, but how did you know about that?”

“‘Cause I was here when _someone_ was arguing to extend it.” Kaidan’s eyes drifted to Joker’s right; Shepard was busy hiding in her drink, eyebrows raised as she took a long sip of it. He stared, waiting for an explanation.

“What?” she asked when she eventually stopped.

“Uh, several things. One: why’d you try and get my shore leave extended?”

Shepard shrugged and curled in on herself a bit more, as much as her muscles and joints would allow before she winced. “I’ve been talking to Chakwas,” she started, picking at the cuff of her hoodie as she spoke. “You haven’t had physical therapy in a long time. She’s worried about you, so I used my pull as an admiral to make sure it happened.”

Joker stared. “Admiral?”

Suddenly, it made a lot more sense. Hackett had never treated him badly or anything, but he also wasn’t the type to go out of his way for individual marines. He focused on the good of the many and all that - which was how he should be, considering his position. And as far as Joker was aware, he’d never met any of the other Admirals in the Alliance aside from Anderson. And sure, it was a _hell_ of a jump from Commander to Admiral, but there was no soldier more impressive and more deserving than Shepard. Everything had started to fall into place in his head. _Admiral Shepard._ “Huh.”

Her smile was bright as she shrugged. “Anderson… left a hole in the Alliance, and Hackett trusted me. He came over, explained what I’d be doing, and I agreed. I get paid more and I have more sway to take care of the soldiers out in the field - _and_ my old crew, who I wouldn’t be here without.”

Vega held up his glass with a grin. “Damn straight, Lola.”

Joker reached up and adjusted his hat. “Congrats, Shep. Can’t think of a single person any more deserving than you. And if you wanna keep me on ships that _don’t_ end up in massive, galaxy-shaping wars this time? I think that’d be pretty cool.”

He was beaming by the time Shepard actually managed to gently slap his knee, and he could feel Vega and Cortez watching them like they were waiting for something to happen. 

There was a clatter of ceramic from the kitchen, and Kaidan’s voice followed it. “Hey, dinner’s ready. Let’s celebrate right.”

Joker had been waiting for something to happen, too, but her promotion made things a hell of a lot trickier.

He shoved that thought away and focused instead on the party, and how genuinely wonderful it felt to be back. He didn’t let his thoughts linger on how the thing he’d been hoping to build had crumbled before it even began, even if all the little touches on his arm from Shepard made it hard.

***

His alarm went off at 0930, and even though he’d been awake for ten minutes already, he still groaned.

Joker’s first physical therapy appointment in over a year was in an hour, and his muscles ached at the thought alone.

The temporary apartment the Alliance had set him up with was fine, but he hadn’t put in the effort to make it feel like home. Eight months of shore leave would feel like unending torture in the final stretch, but the first four or so would fly by - anything less than a month of leave felt insignificant, especially when you were in the middle of fighting an ancient threat and ending centuries-old genetically modified war crimes against alien races and destroying a human supremacist group that had gone off the deep end.

Not decorating was just easier, because there was no point in doing it anyway. He had no plans to put down roots anytime soon.

Getting to the Alliance hospital was easy enough; Cortez had set him up with a decent skycar, if only so he wouldn’t think he was trapped even more than being grounded made him feel. It didn’t fly as nice as he’d like, but it did the job, and still gave him a way to get his feet off the ground.

Saying Dr. Chakwas was excited to see him would’ve been an understatement: the moment he entered into her office (and for the first time, it wasn't a cramped med bay - it was an office with space and windows that overlooked the city, not the mess), she greeted him with a warm hug. “It’s so good to see you, Jeff,” she said, kissing his cheek before pushing him back to arm’s length. “Now. How are you feeling? I’ve got another appointment coming in in a few minutes, but I expect a full situation report.”

“I’m stiff, but that’s really all I got, Doc.” He smiled and let her look him over anyway. “Shepard already did this. I came home in one piece, I promise.”

“Forgive me for fussing, but you and her are _quite_ the pair. Neither of you like to be the burden, even when you need the help.”

Chakwas had always been able to see through his bullshit, and it was just a part of their relationship, but he still rolled his eyes and tried to shift the focus. “I didn’t come here for a psych eval, did I?”

She noticed his uncomfortable shifting and nodded; he was thankful she dropped it for now. “You remember your stretches, correct? Let’s see them.”

His original plan was to hide just how out of practice he was from Chakwas - _technically_ he was supposed to do his physical therapy routine once per day. Even during the war, he’d slacked off, often waiting until EDI and Shepard started a two pronged attack to make him feel guilty for skipping them. 

Without them on board to bother him about it, he’d forgotten completely, and now he could barely touch his toes; his hamstring burned as he tried, and he bit his lip to distract himself from the pain while he counted the seconds.

Through the ringing in his ears from how bad it felt, he heard the door open and the doctor greet someone else - the other patient, he figured.

_Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty._

He sat back up and stretched out the leg he’d kept tucked against the other; he tried his hardest not to visibly gasp for air, but it was hard. The relief was overwhelming.

“He hasn’t been stretching,” Dr. Chakwas said to her patient. “You can tell by how difficult that just was for him.”

“Joker, come _on._ You knew you were supposed to!”

His hand went to fix the hat that wasn’t there as Joker looked over to see Shepard, who was leaning against a bench and pulling off her hoodie. Her sports bra was bright blue, and Chakwas smiled. “I like the color you’ve picked. It brings a little sunshine.”

“Figured it was time to change it up. I’ve worn all black for too long.”

A network of scars crossed her torso - the marred skin on her neck was only the start, he realized as he rolled his shoulders to crack his back. It went down her entire left side, crossing over her back and disappearing beneath her leggings. 

It was a stark and violent reminder of what Shepard was still recovering from.

Joker moved on to stretch his other hamstring, but this time he had company to distract himself from the pain. “So this was your assignment, Doc? PT with Shepard?”

He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her smile. “Yes, it was. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was playing favorites.”

“No, you would _never_ do such a thing.” He huffed out a laugh. “C’mon, you _know_ I’ve been your favorite since I joined the Alliance.”

Dr. Chakwas laughed a bit. “I’m declining to comment.”

“Good call, Doctor. I wouldn’t want to have to separate you two because of the bias I’d witnessed.”

“Uh, Commander?” Joker released the position and flopped back onto the mat he was using, aching and exhausted. He looked over at Shepard, who had her arm pulled tight across her chest, and smiled as best he could. “Sorry - _Admiral?”_ She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. “I’m gonna say it now: you’re also biased. You’re telling me you don’t already have a crew picked out for your next ship?”

Shepard made a face. “No comment.”

Even with the amount of pain they were clearly both pushing through, having company for physical therapy was nice. It gave them something to distract themselves with when things got hard - which was frequently, given how out of practice Joker was and how stiffly Shepard still moved.

“This is your own fault, Joker,” Shepard teased as she slowly crouched down with a band around her knees. She was panting, and she kept shaking her head to toss her hair out of her face. “You could’ve kept up with your stretches while you were heading to Rannoch at least.” She stopped what she was doing to pull her hair into a ponytail - it was still long, and her fingers moved slowly while she tried to get most of it within an elastic.

“She’s right, you know,” Dr. Chakwas added, helping push Joker into the stretch he was doing so it actually worked. “How was that trip, anyway? Boring, I’d imagine.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t great. Hanging out with Garrus and Tali was nice when they weren’t flirting and making me feel like a third wheel.” He grit his teeth. “Ow, Doc.”

“They’re still a thing?” Shepard asked, sinking down into another squat. “Good. They deserve to be happy.”

“Tali, yes. She’s great. I want nothing but the best for her.” Joker sucked in a breath through his teeth as Chakwas changed the angle of his arm. “Garrus, though…”

Shepard’s laughter was breathy but warm, like it always had been. “What’d he do to you? I told him to be nice.”

Joker sighed - these were his two closest friends in the galaxy, and he didn’t feel like outright lying. “He just grilled me about a… thing I had for someone that I never acted on.” His fingers twitched a bit; Chakwas let him go and he relaxed again, focusing on the pleasant burn in his muscles.

Dr. Chakwas crossed the room and steadied Shepard as she stood. “And why didn’t you act on those feelings, Jeff?” she asked.

 _Fuck._ Of all the conversations he could’ve had, this was where it ended up. Chakwas was too damn good at reading him; he saw the playful glint in her eye, and he knew he was cornered. “It… I guess it just never felt right, y’know? There was always something bigger to deal with, and then EDI happened.”

He looked over and watched Shepard lean against a wall, looking as exhausted as she had after Horizon and Sanctuary, but infinitely happier. It was nice, in a way. “I don’t blame you, Joker. Getting timing right on a ship is hard enough, but during a war?” She huffed out a breath and reached for her water bottle.

“I could ask the same of you, Shepard,” Chakwas said, and Joker cheered internally - Chakwas was an equal-opportunity gossip, and Shepard’s love life was a more than worthy topic. “Why didn’t you pursue romance? There was no shortage of interested parties aboard the Normandy.”

She held up a hand as she finished taking a long drink from her water and swallowed. “You mean _beyond_ the fraternization regs that would’ve gotten me stripped from my command?”

“Rules can always be bent during a war. _You_ know that as well as anyone.” Chakwas tutted and pulled out a few weird-looking things from a cabinet. “Did no one catch your eye?”

“I…” Shepard sighed, and she wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her arm. Chakwas gave her one of the weird things; she gripped it in the palm of her left hand and started squeezing the buttons one at a time - it was a resistance trainer, but for each finger, apparently. She struggled once, twice, three times before she found a groove. “Someone did catch my eye,” was all she said.

“And?”

“I waited too long. It didn’t work out, so we kept things professional.”

Dr. Chakwas and Shepard shared a long look; it was like a full conversation happened between them without a single word spoken aloud. Joker felt out of the loop and just a tiny bit concerned - whatever secrets they had were probably powerful.

“Ah,” Chakwas said after a few more moments of silence. “I think I know who you mean. Hadn’t you been interested in him since the SR-1?”

“I did, but…” Shepard shrugged. Using the wall as a guide, she very slowly slid down until she was sitting on the mat on the floor. “It was a new command for me, then, and by the time I was confident enough to do something, we went to Eden Prime.” She said it so matter of factly, like it could’ve been anyone. “It’s fine. We’re friends - we’re _good_ friends. It’s good.” Her hand kept squeezing the resistance trainer idly. “It’s good,” she said again, almost as if to convince herself that she believed that.

Joker’s mind slowly started piecing things together as he went back to stretching his hamstrings - this was the most Shepard had _ever_ laid out about anyone she’d had feelings for in the entire time he’d known her. The number of crew members that she’d known before Eden Prime was limited - especially after what had happened over Alchera. And of those crew members, she’d only openly kept in touch with two. 

And she’d only made a pass at one of them, at Purgatory, in the middle of a war. 

That afternoon still haunted him - it had caught him so off guard, and he’d been so focused on the chance of having something with EDI. Shepard had been off limits, and instead of taking that into consideration, he’d shot her down _hard_ in the worst way possible - his rejection included a roundabout admission of feelings. He’d told her point-blank that if their lives had been different, they would have been together.

Weren’t their lives different now?

The realization hit him hard in the center of his chest; the world felt like it rocked beneath him violently, but only once. It settled quickly and that, in and of itself, was strange.

He looked over, still bent at the waist and holding his toes to stretch the tightness out of his muscles, and noticed Shepard looking at him with something new in her eyes.

“It could be better than good, though, couldn’t it?”

Dr. Chakwas offered Shepard a hand to help her up, and she took it. “Yeah,” she said softly, breaking eye contact with Joker. “I guess it could be.”

“Perhaps this person’s come around - timing is _much_ easier when the world isn’t ending on your watch.”

It all felt pointed - and Joker knew it was. Chakwas was the one person he and Shepard had both talked to in some capacity on board the Normandy - and Shepard had done it while drinking. He knew the doctor knew about his poorly-concealed feelings, and she probably knew about Shepard’s as well.

It was meddling, and borderline infuriating, but it was done with kindness.

He released the pose he was in and sighed, falling back against the mat again. Each breath he released carried some of the tension that had ratcheted up in his body since the start of the conversation. Sure, she’d been promoted, and things had changed, and time had passed, but the chance for something special was still there.

He kept thinking about how he kept being handed chances by the universe, and how anyone else would have had to say goodbye for good. Fate may not have existed, but it felt almost like a sign. _This_ was the moment Garrus had been talking about before he left the Normandy - this was his chance to take a shot he’d been too scared to for _years._

It would be stupid and risky to do. He may end up losing his job over it, but Garrus was right - if he kept waiting, he’d lose his shot with Shepard, and the thought of that alone was enough to make up his mind.

The feelings he’d been holding back since 2183 came rushing forward: the fondness, the worry, the lust, the _love._ All of it collapsed over him and left him breathless and smiling; when he opened his eyes, Chakwas was grinning over at him gently, like she somehow knew. Maybe she did. Maybe it was obvious. Of all the risks he’d taken for her, this felt like the least reasonable one, but he wasn’t going to stop.

Joker was _not_ about to waste this final chance with Shepard, chain of command be damned. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, let me know your thoughts, and you can find me on my [mass effect tumblr](https://urdnotshepard.tumblr.com/) or my [writing twitter](https://twitter.com/latinnameluna), where i yell about wips and sometimes share bits of things.
> 
> part three - the final part - will be coming before the end of the year.


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